A Broken Soul
by theLastoftheLaiquendi
Summary: Thranduil's heart is already cold from the death of his wife. But when Legolas returns from a patrol badly injured, the elvenking fears he will lose his son as well. Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or The Hobbit, their character's or plot or anything else from them. Those are Peter Jackson's and JRR Tolkien's.
1. Chapter 1: The Prince's Return

Chapter 1

Thranduil glanced up from the stack of papers he'd been reading as a brief knock sounded on his door.

"Enter." He said, before returning to his work. The hour was late, and he was not expecting a visitor. Húrdir, his top adviser slid into the dimly lit study, shutting the door with a soft click. He was silent as he stood at attention in the Elvenking's presence.

"Speak, for I sense it is a heavy matter you bring to me at such a late hour." The king gently placed his quill on the desk leaned forward on his elbows, chin resting on his hands.

"It is the Prince Legolas, my Lord," came the soft voice.

"What of him?" queried the king. "He is not to return from a patrol for three days yet." But fear crept into his heart, a chill had settled in his chest at the mention of his only son.

"He has just returned. The only one still alive from his company." Húrdir's voice trembled. "He has many wounds. His horse returned bearing him. He is unconscious, likely from loss of blood." The adviser's voice trailed off as the king shot up from his seat behind the desk.

"Where is my son?" he cried. "Surely he is not dead!"

"The healers do not believe he will last the night." Húrdir hung his head. "The poison has taken hold of him, they say. They labor with their might to save the prince. I am sorry, my king."

Thranduil swept past Húrdir's slumped shoulders, brow creased with worry and anguish. He left the room without another word.

How could this have happened? What had his son done to deserve this? The king's thoughts raced as he hastened to the healing wing. What had the king done to deserve this? Thranduil's blonde hair streamed behind him as he rounded the corner to the healer's. Throwing the doors open, his eyes glinted as they searched for his son.

The activity in the room all but paused, eyes turning toward the king. A healer ushered him in, leading him back to a corner sectioned off by a curtain. She paused before pulling back the curtain.

"My Lord," the healer began. "I must warn you. The prince may not awake. He is fevering, and we cannot cool him down." She let out a breath. "His body is mangled. He may never be the same." She bowed, then led Thranduil behind the curtain.

Shock played across the king's face. He could not mask it as he looked upon his son. He clearly had not been here for long- his long blonde hair was matted about his face with blood, his own, and that of orc. A healer was tending to a long, deep gash on the left side of Legolas's face. The thick shaft of an orc arrow stuck in the left side of his chest, and another lay on a table next to the bed. A healer tended to the arrow wound on the prince's abdomen as two more stepped in front of the king to begin working to remove the second arrow. Thranduil saw the prince's arms, resting at his sides, hands bloodied and torn.

Stepping to the side, the king's eyes rested on his son's legs. One was twisted and bent awkwardly, clearly broken. The other was barely covered by shredded trousers, and the king could see where some animal had gnawed on the leg. Two more healers stepped behind the curtain, carrying poultices and more bandages.

The king stood frozen in shock. His son. His son was going to die, just like his father had, just like his wife. His son was going to die, and it was going to be the king's fault. How could Thranduil explain this to his daughter? Thanneth and Legolas were so close. She had already been so strong when her mother had died. She could not lose her brother as well. He dropped his head into his hands, a single tear escaping his eye. He could not lose another family member. A healer boldly took the king's arm, sitting him in a chair. The king's shoulders shook as he silently wept.

 **A/N: what do you guys think? This is my very first fanfiction, so I'd appreciate reviews and feedback! Second chapter coming soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's chapter 2!**

The elvenking raised his head. He did not know how long he had cried. He stood, swiping the tears from his now bloodshot eyes before stretching his limbs. This was foolish. He would not cry anymore. Enough tears would be shed by the princess, he need not add to them. He called for a healer who stood off to the side.

"Send someone to find Húrdir and have him come to me here. And have a maid come as well. I need a drink." The healer nodded and hurried away.

Thranduil risked a look at his son- healers still moved around him, but the frenzied activity had ceased. They were finally beginning to wash Legolas's long hair, and were beginning to replace the tattered, soiled clothes with soft, clean garments. This was a good sign. He beckoned to a healer.

"What can you tell me?" He asked.

"My King, there is some hope. Though we are still worried by the wounds on his stomach, chest, and leg, and the cut on his face will scar, some wounds are not infected, as we feared. His fever remains, but he has cooled somewhat." The healer bowed, returning to his work.

Thranduil felt a sliver of the tension in his shoulders leave him. There was a little hope for his son.

Húrdir entered the room, bowing to the king before standing beside him.

"You summoned me." He stated, eyes taking in the activity in the room.

"I did. I cannot sleep until my son wakes. Bring me my work from my desk, as well as inform the princess of the situation." Húrdir looked taken aback at this.

"You have not told her yet?"

"I felt it best to let her sleep in peace for a few hours, let the healers do their work before she knew. She should not be permitted to enter until they are finished cleaning him up, however. She will be upset enough as it is." The king nodded, signaling he was finished. Húrdir nodded in response, bowed again, and left.

Pulling his chair closer to the prince's bed, Thranduil made himself comfortable, sensing he may be waiting for some time before Legolas woke up. A maid approached him, curtsying before she stood at attention.

"What service can I provide to the king?" She asked, her voice clear and soft.

"I need a drink. Bring a bottle of our strongest wine. And tea. Preferably floral with honey." She nodded. He added, as a final thought. "And bring some crackers. That will be all." With a wave of his hand she hurried away. The elvenking's eyes returned to his son.

The maid returned shortly, bearing the king's food and drink. He motioned for her to place it on the table next to him, then held out his hand for a glass of wine. She quickly poured a glass and placed it in his outstretched hand.

Húrdir returned, hands full of documents.

"Your work, as you requested, My Lord." He bowed before continuing, "The princess is distraught. She will not stay away for long."

"It is alright if she comes now. He is looking better," the king replied. Húrdir nodded in agreement.

"He has not awoken then?"

"No. He is breathing easier, though. And so am I. Has the council been told?" Thranduil took a sip of his wine, eyebrow raised at his adviser.

"No, My Lord. The sun has not yet risen, though it will soon. Much of the palace still sleeps, for it is still early in the morn." Húrdir looked pointedly at the glass in the king's hand.

Thranduil choked on his wine, spluttering as he realized the hour of the day and the strength of the drink. He looked at the cup, then shrugged and nodded at the adviser before downing the rest of his glass. He was king, and his son was critically injured. He looked up at Húrdir.

"Have you slept?"

"I have not."

"Go. I have all I need. Rest, and assemble the council at nine. That should give you a few hours at least," the king reasoned.

Húrdir nodded, bowing once more before leaving. Thranduil held out his glass to the maid, which she quickly refilled. 'What a mess," he thought. 'I'll have another drink." He continued to sip the wine and let his thoughts wander.

A sound pulled him from his thoughts, bringing his head up. A groan of pain, from the prince. Thranduil strode to the bed, kneeling beside his son's head. Eyes fluttered open as Legolas moaned again, his head rolled to the side.

Blue eyes met grey, but there was no recognition in them. Panic and pain flooded the younger elf's face, as healers rushed to tend to him.

"Shhh. Be calm, my son," the king soothed, stroking Legolas's blonde hair. The prince's face did not relax, but his eyes gently closed before he slipped again into deep sleep.

 **What do you guys think? It took me longer to write this than I expected, but I think I like where it's going. We'll get to meet a new character or two soon! Thanks for the reviews loves!**


	3. Chapter 3

Hours passed, but Legolas did not wake again, not until lunchtime. By this time, Thranduil had stopped drinking. He was sifting through the last of his papers when he saw the prince stir out of the corner of his eye. He stood, approaching the bed slowly, nervous to look into his son's eyes. They had not recognized him before. What if Legolas did not know him permanently? The prince's eyes were clear, and this time they widened when he saw his father.

"Ada. You came," he croaked. "I have been so alone. The world was dark and cold. I was searching for someone, anyone…" The prince closed his eyes as his voice trailed off. It was a moment before he opened them again.

"You are safe now, my son. I am here." Thranduil gently grabbed Legolas's hand, holding it while a healer helped Legolas drink some kind of herbal medicine. The curtain was pulled back, a silver haired elf stepping in. She looked around before her eyes settled on Legolas.

"Oh! You're awake!" she breathed, hurrying to her father's side.

"Thanneth! You came too. I have been so lonely, and they keep making me drink bitter things." Legolas swallowed, trying to control his expressions. Clearly, he was still in pain.

Thanneth laughed shortly before sobering. "You may be ill, but you have not lost your humor. I know you are still in pain. I cannot bear to see you this way any longer." She stroked Legolas's hair gently before turning away. "Forgive me, I must go."

Tears escaped her eyes, and her thin frame shuddered before she left the room. Thranduil watched the curtain swish closed behind his only daughter.

He sighed. It seemed she had lost more weight, her clothes hung on her frame, again. She had been steadily becoming more and more frail since her mother passed. It was beginning to alarm the king. He would speak with her later. His gaze returned to his son, but Legolas was already breathing deeply. Sleeping again. Taking his hand from the prince's, the king rose. He would go find some food. After pausing to leave strict instructions to send for him if his son woke or if conditions changed, Thranduil left the infirmary.

He strode through the halls purposefully, only stopping to send a maid to bring his meal to his study. He closed the door to his study softly, before settling himself behind his desk. A new stack of reports had been neatly placed at his right hand. Ignoring these, he reached into one of the cupboards in his desk, pulling out a bottle of strong ale. It had been made by dwarves, and though he hated them, he could not deny that their alcohol was excellent.

He studied the reports while he sipped his drink. He gave a small start when he saw the number of elves lost in the same patrol Legolas had been injured on. So many elves had died. Their numbers were shrinking, almost daily as the evil infiltrated their once beautiful forest. His thoughts were interrupted by the soft knock on his door. A maid entered at the king's call, placing the tray of food in front of him before quickly retreating from the room. Once alone, the king turned back to his papers, but he found he could not think of anything but the brutality the Legolas had endured. Taking a deep drink of ale, he stood.

"Enough of this madness. I will speak to Thanneth. She will be calm now," he muttered. Taking one last swig, he left his desk, his food untouched. Worries about his oldest child began to fill his thoughts as he turned down the hallway to the royal chambers.

 **Ok. Sorry it took a few days to get this written. I've had a few personal problems I've been trying to deal with. I actually have had this written for a few days, I've just gotten to typing and editing it. Thanks for your reads, I'd love to hear from you guys! And thank you to those who have reviewed. Much love!**


	4. Chapter 4

**So, I recently had some inspiration on this story about how to move forward! Lucky for you guys, I was actually able to update a little this week, because I'm on spring break for university! Here's chapter 4!**

Thanneth heard the steady footsteps of her father in the hallway of the royal chambers. When they stopped just outside the door, she waited to hear the knock, but it never came.

'All the better', she thought. She knew if something had happened with Legolas, it would have been Húrdir at her door, and his steps were light, almost fluttering. She settled back into her chair by the window- window being a relative term. The Elvenking's halls had no windows, but balconies overlooking indoor gardens lit by skylights, or open archways into fountains. Thanneth sighed, her eyes drooping closed, as she ignored her growling belly. How many meals had she skipped in the last week alone? At least one a day. Tuesday alone she had only drunk a small cup of tea, and yesterday she had only eaten some of her morning meal. She knew she should eat, but really why would she give up one of the few things she had control over? Her father seemed to think she was only good for needlework and meetings with the other ladies. She herself had declined weapons training beyond the basic sword and bow. She didn't love it. Fighting and traveling and being a warrior were Legolas's passions. Thanneth much preferred politics. But since Legolas was the male heir, he was to be trained in the ways of the kingdom, more so than his older sister. Thanneth would attend the occasional meeting here and there, and of course she had studied the maps and the trade agreements and such. But Thranduil would often shoo her from the room when his advisors were present-never mind that Thanneth was his firstborn and possessed a desire to learn about the inner workings of a kingdom.

All these thoughts ran through Thanneth's head as she allowed herself to daydream. Pulling herself from the bench she had settled on, she stretched her arms above her head, pulling off her nightgown and shuffling toward her closet. She paused as she saw her reflection in the large metal and glass mirror. Elves were lean, yes, but Thanneth was thin, and nearing gaunt. She noted the way her ribs stuck out, counting 12 pressing out from her chest. 'Elves have 24 ribs, and they should not be showing like this' she thought. 'But many also have normal families,' came the bitter reply. Turning away, she began sifting through her gowns. All beautiful, but some more suitable for how she felt. Empty. She tugged a plain dark green gown from the back. She'd had it for years, and yet it had always managed to remain through the spring and fall deep cleanings. She pulled it over her head, appreciating the comfort of the well-worn fabric. A knock pulled her from her thoughts. Running a hand through her hair to smooth it, she strode to the door, pulling it open to find Húrdir on the other side.

"My lady you look lovely. Your father wishes you to attend the council this morning, if you are well." Húrdir's words ended, he patiently waited for her answer.

Thanneth thought for a moment before answering, "Of course. I will attend."

Húrdir nodded, "We will meet at nine, but do not feel rushed to be ready. The council has other matters to discuss that only need your father's approval." Thanneth curtsied, a small smile appearing on Húrdir's face at the action. He turned, returning the way he had come from.

Thanneth closed the door. "Matters that only need your father's approval…" she scoffed under her breath. Of course, Húrdir had no control over those, but the tone with which he said it? She rolled her eyes. Would she really be useful? She doubted it, but then the thought came, 'what if she was being asked to attend because her father thought Legolas was going to die and she would need to know how to rule instead?' Her heart dropped. A life ruling was her dream, but without Legolas? She did not want it if that was the case. Thanneth shook her head, banishing the morbid thoughts. She would not read more into this than she already had.

She returned to her closet, pulling out one of her more formal sets of robes, changing quickly. At nine o'clock sharp, Thanneth entered the council room. Her father was seated at the head of the table, and looked up as she walked in.

"Ah. Thanneth, right on time."

Húrdir laughed. "Did you expect anything less, Thranduil?"

Rolling her eyes, Thanneth settled herself in the chair next to her father. Leaning over, she spoke quietly in his ear. "Ada, how is Legolas? I did not expect to see you here."

The king did not answer immediately. When did answer, he chose his words carefully. "Legolas is resting. He is no worse than when he returned."

"But he is no better." Thanneth finished. Thranduil nodded.

Worry began to creep into Thanneth's heart. But her father chose that moment to bring the council to order, effectively distracting Thanneth.

Thanneth watched her father, intrigued at his ability to push away his personal feelings. It was as though he wore a cold steel mask. The council discussed a few minor details concerning their trades with the men of Laketown, until the matter of border patrol was brought up. One young elf, who was quite new to the council, persistently advocated to push back, to extend the patrol to reclaim what had been lost. Húrdir argued that if they extended the border patrol, their armies would diminish so quickly they would perish before the end of the year.

"The darkness we fight would only grow more quickly."

Arguments between multiple council members erupted. Finally, Thranduil, who had been quietly sitting, stood. The room instantly quieted. Thranduil measured his steps as he slowly moved to stand next to the young elf, Galion, who had suggested expanding the border. Bending down to see him eye-to-eye, Thranduil stared hard at him. No one dared breath. Galion stared back.

Then Thranduil laughed, cold and cruel. Scoffing, he stood tall once again, his height towering over the elves seated at the table. "Galion, you are a fool. Get out of my council room. Do not return until you have seen my son and have read the reports of how many men he lost." Galion did not move.

"All due respect, My King- "

Thranduil bent low again, this time anger permeating the mask he had so carefully crafted.

"No." he said quietly, dangerously. "If you had respect, you would not have foolishly suggested wasting the lives of my people. I admire your audacity. But I do not council with fools. Now go." Thranduil's final word was spoken forcefully, but low and quiet. Seizing the back of Galion's robes, he pulled him from his chair. "Out. Now."

He thrust Galion toward the door, making him stumble. Galion found his feet, hold his head high as he left. There was silence. All eyes were on the elvenking. Thanneth hid a smirk. She knew Galion was a smart man, but his arrogance did not serve him well at times. Thranduil motioned to Thanneth to follow. He left the room, calling out to Húrdir, "I'm going. Do what you will." He held the door for Thanneth, letting her through into the corridor before he closed the door to the council room.

 **Also, I just wanted to say, thank you all for your patience with me, my life is really crazy right now working full time, and doing school, and a bunch of extracurriculars. So. I love you all. Really. I do. (I also like reviews, they help me know what you guys are looking for in the story and for this one, I'm a little more flexible on minor details!) Much love to you all!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's chapter 5, it's a little shorter, but we are getting close to some answers! And yes, Galion will return…**

Chapter 5

Thranduil caught up to Thanneth quickly after they left the council, taking her hand before she could turn a corner.

"Yes, father?" She spun around to face him, her eyes cold. Thranduil realized much like his own were at times, especially at times of insult. If it was possible, her tone was cooler than her gaze. Thranduil dropped her hand, clasping his own hands behind his back in one smooth motion. Motioning onward, they walked together in a tense silence, Thranduil mapping out his words in his mind, Thanneth seething over the seeming lack of faith her father had in her.

Once they were a good distance from the council room, he paused, offering his arm to Thanneth. "Will you walk with me in the gardens, Thanneth? I'm afraid we have much to discuss." She reluctantly took it with a sigh, and they resumed their pace.

"Of course, Ada." The chill lingered in her voice, but she fell into step quickly, allowing him to lead her through the stronghold. They soon reached one of the private royal gardens, but Thranduil did not speak for some time. Finally, he stopped and turned to face a statue of a beautiful elf-his wife, though few knew that.

"My wife perished to protect these lands. When we were wed, she became a princess, but she always was a warrior first." Thranduil's voice was steady, but low. "When we fought in the Last Alliance, and the king was killed, she fought fiercely. When we returned, I begged her to lay down her bow and knives. 'War is no place for a queen' I argued. She told me "A queen's place is where she can protect her people. If you go to war, I will go with you.'" A bitter laugh followed before he spoke again. "At the time, the world was at peace. And remained that way for a thousand years. There were few casualties, if any, on the patrols. Then we had two beautiful children, and when Legolas was old enough to train, she returned with him, saying that she must protect her family.

"But the southern Greenwood was no longer safe and peaceful, I'm sure you remember the reason we sent you to Imladris with Legolas. We did not know if we would survive. In the last years before we retreated northward, I again pleaded with her to retire from the patrols, again, she refused. She led her patrol out for the last time in the year 1055. They all returned, with only one casualty-their captain, their queen. I was told story upon story of how she had fought to the end, as a diversion to facilitate their escape. But all I could think about was the torture she must have gone through. I'll admit, I often asked Húrdir how if those elves returned with barely a scratch, why was my wife murdered. We left, shortly after her burial. Her grave we marked with a single white stone. It was the best we could do at the time."

A hot tear rolled down Thanneth's face. Swiping it away, she softly spoke. "You told me she had been sick! How could you lie to me, for all these years?"

"I could not bear the grief. I blamed myself." Thranduil looked down at his hands. "And I could not bear to have you choose the same fate. Though you did not choose to fight, Legolas did. And he is so much like her. This forest has claimed my wife. It seems it may claim my son. I must do what I can to protect my line."

Thanneth shook her head. "I am a part of your line too!" Throwing her hands towards the ground, she continued, "always you defer to Legolas. Always." Then she sighed, taking a breath. "What must we do to save him?"

Thranduil would not meet her eyes. "There is a sedative the healers can use. It will induce him into an even deeper sleep. It will slow the poison to give us time to call for Lord Elrond. Perhaps he has the power to heal Legolas. It is our only hope. Will you ride to Imladris?"

"You wish me to go? I am no messenger, no warrior!" Thanneth was confused.

"I wish you to go, because I trust you. I will send two with you. You must ride hard, and fast, and you must leave today. Can you do this for me? For your brother?"

Thanneth nodded slowly. "Who will accompany me?"

A small smile passed across the king's face. "I was thinking Galion, and then whoever Húrdir recommends."

"Galion? That fool.. Please, do not make me travel with him."

The king held up a hand, effectively silencing his daughter. "Galion is a strong warrior, and despite our disagreement, I do think he is fit for the journey. I like him, if not for his tenacity and fight. Though, his arrogance is less inspiring. Go. Prepare your things. The day is passing, and you must begin your journey." Thranduil waved a hand at Thanneth, signaling her dismissal. She did not move for a moment, looking as though she wished to say something more, but she did not. Finally, she nodded, turning and walking away, back towards her room.

Thranduil watched her leave. He did not move until he was sure he was alone, sinking onto a nearby bench. Letting his head fall into his hands and his thoughts wander, he sat in silence. He had just manipulated his daughter into going to Imladris under the pretense that Legolas was close to death. In all reality, Legolas was close to death, but not so close as to call Elrond. No, Thranduil needed council, and he needed it quickly.

His scouts had brought him troubling news, and a survivor from Legolas's patrol. They had found her some miles from their original search for the bodies. She was much closer to death than Legolas had been upon his return, having been longer without care. But she had been conscious for a short time, and she spoke grave words before quietly passing. Some quick planning with Húrdir had taken place just before the council meeting and led to the idea of Thanneth riding to Rivendell. Rising, the elvenking stood, straightening his robes before purposefully walking to his study. If the group was leaving soon to get Elrond, he would need to act quickly.

 **A/N: so basically, Legolas gets back around 11pm… Hurdir had scouts out shortly after he returned, and then they got back around 7am-ish with the other survivor.. I hope that kind of helps straighten out the timeline. It's a long day for everybody. Also, this story takes place about T.A. 1600, Thanneth is about 1100 years old, and Legolas is about 600. I know that may seem like Thanneth is pretty old, and she is, but since her mother's death (about T.A. 1055), Thranduil has really shielded her from the world (it's like in the back of his mind he knows she's his firstborn and could be the heir but he couldn't stand to lose her). Not that he doesn't care about Legolas, he really does, but he also believes that the prince's job is to protect the country while he is young, in addition to learning the ways of the kingdom. Hopefully that answers some questions! I'd love to hear from you!**


	6. Chapter 6

Broken Soul 6

Thranduil hastily scratched his quill across a piece of parchment. Húrdir stood nearby, patiently waiting for the message to be finished. The quill stopped, and Thranduil held out the finished note. "Will this be enough?" he asked, looking to his advisor, already knowing the answer. The note, though short, read:

 _My Lord Elrond- need drives me to call for your aid. We have received some most distressing news from a patrol. I would request that you come with all haste to my stronghold. Should this note fall into the wrong hands, I have not risked disclosing many details. I have sent Thanneth to reside in Imladris for a time. She is not to leave until I retrieve her myself. I await your response. Yours, Elvenking Thranduil_

Húrdir nodded. "It is enough. Shall I give it to Thanneth?"

Thranduil shook his head. "Galion may carry it. Thanneth, for all her strengths, would read it and not remain where I wish her to. If what we fear is coming really does come, I cannot have her here. With Legolas unfit for travel, the princess must be protected."

Húrdir nodded his understanding. "Will you see her off?"

"No. Enough has been said on my part for this day. I trust Elrond to speak with her after his return to Imladris." Thranduil waved Húrdir away. "Go. Find Galion and whoever else you see fit to send with Thanneth. They must be on the road now."

Húrdir bowed and left, obeying the king's command. He would send Galion and Tauriel. Tauriel was as loyal to Thranduil and Thanneth as any elf, and a skilled warrior at that. She would do well on this journey, and if anything, would teach Galion a thing or two about loyalty to the throne.

Bags packed and on her back, Thanneth stopped by the healing hall to say goodbye to Legolas. She knew she would be returning soon but was anxious for his health. The head healer met the princess at the door.

"My lady, the prince is resting. I would have you come at another time."

Thanneth set her jaw. "I must see my brother. I will be brief." Shouldering past the elf, she made her way to Legolas's bed. Taking his hand, she spoke quietly. She knew it was likely he couldn't hear her, but she needed to speak with him.

"I must ride to Imladris. Ada says Lord Elrond could heal you." A tear slipped from her eye. She swiped it away as quickly as it appeared. "I'll return to you soon, my little brother. Just hold on. I love you 'Las." Standing, she left swiftly, nodding at the healer on her way out.

Thanneth's company left with little fanfare. The three elves had left the Elvenking's stronghold riding hard. They planned to reach Imladris in seven days' time. Thanneth knew it would be a long week. But seeing Legolas, weak and hurt, spurred her onward. They did not speak as they rode through the trees. Each elf was in their own thoughts, unaware of the true purposes of their journey.

Thranduil watched from an upper balcony as the three riders left. He felt comforted by the company traveling with his daughter. Tauriel, the young but fearless warrior, had been trained with Legolas and was friendly with Thanneth. Galion was much the same. He was well trained with a blade, and sharp of mind, though he was known to be stubborn in his ways, and much too idealistic for Thranduil's taste. Shaking his head, the king turned away, his feet carrying him to the great doors of the healing wing. Softly pushing the door open, he ignored the elves bustling around and made his way to Legolas's bedside, settling in a vacant chair.

Legolas stirred from his sleep turning his head slowly, to see his father seated, eyes closed, and hands folded in his lap. Thranduil opened his eyes. "Good afternoon, son." He spoke quietly, then turned to call for a healer. Turning back to Legolas, he leaned back into his chair. "You have slept much, though I suspect you will sleep much more before you are well again."

The prince nodded, wincing as he did so. "Yes. I am so tired. Where is Thanneth? I thought she was here."

"She was, but she has gone. It may be some time before we see her again." Thranduil's eyes dropped to the floor. "Tell me, what do you remember of the patrol you were on?"

Legolas's eyebrows knit together as he thought hard. "My head hurts so much, Ada. I… I think I can remember.. There was so much blood. And I was so tired… I.. I am sorry." His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, then he opened them again. "I think someone died." He stopped speaking, but he continued to think about what his father had asked him.

A healer appeared at the king's shoulder, hesitating before speaking. "My king, a word in private, if you will?"

Another healer hurried over and began checking the bandages on one of Legolas's legs. Thranduil stood, closing his eyes again as his son hissed in pain. He followed the healer to a chamber off the main hall.

"Speak," came the command. The healer, standing nearly a full head shorter than Thranduil trembled before setting his shoulders.

"The prince has a serious head injury. Do you not think you could give him at least a week's recovery before you speak of these traumatic events?"

"We may not have a week to wait. This was what you meant to speak to me about?" The king was affronted.

"N-No my king. I wished to update you on your son's condition-"

Thranduil interrupted him. "Then update me. Do not question me on my dealings with my son!"

"Apologies, my king. I meant no insult," squeaked the healer.

The elvenking's frame loomed over the frightened elf. "Intended or not, insult was found. Though this pettiness wastes my time. Speak to me of my son. And speak quickly."

Nodding the healer took a small step back, breathing in before launching into a report on Legolas's health.

"His fever is still high, though we suspected it would be. We have reset his broken leg, and the bleeding on his arrow wounds has slowed and nearly stopped. We worry about infection, but so far it is only found in his right leg- the one that was bitten. There are no signs of infection in his arrow wounds." The healer paused for breath, continuing. "The poison is posing a problem to us. We continue to search for an antidote, but none has yet been found. We may need to let this poison run its course. But the risk of damage to the prince's brain rises with his fever."

Letting out a breath he realized he had been holding, Thranduil nodded. "Is this all?"

The smaller elf nodded in return. "Prince Legolas is well enough off for now, though only time may tell how far-reaching the damage will be."

Thranduil bobbed his head once more, then returned to his son's bedside. But his window of time had passed- the prince was already sleeping once more.

 **A/N: Here's chapter 6! I'm getting excited because time is going to move faster hopefully. And also, because I am done with school for the summer and have lots more time to write (as long as I don't get too tired from working so much…) I'd love to hear what you guys think, and I want you to know that I really enjoy reading your reviews and appreciate the follows, even though I haven't been good at individually thanking you. So, consider this a thank you and I will try to be better! Thanks loves!**


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